The A Team
by utterxodestruction
Summary: "And they say she's in the Class A Team, stuck in her daydream, been this way since 18 but lately her face seems slowly sinking, wasting, crumbling like pastries, and they scream the worst things in life come free to us." AU finchel based lightly on the Ed Sheeran song -A Team-
1. Finn

**Chapter One: Finn**

* * *

He was a freshman in high school when it happened.

He was on his lunch when Mr. Shue came barreling into the cafeteria, his mother in tow. Finn's face contorted into an expression of concern as he took in his mother, tears streaking her face. She held her arms out to him, beckoning him to her. He didn't understand why this was happening but his mother never cried so it must be something huge. He hugged her tight before asking what was going on.

When the words slipped from Mr. Shue's mouth, Finn felt his whole world stop. He literally felt it come to a halt before the contents of it shattered to pieces around him.

He pulled away from his mother, who sobbed harder from the loss of contact.

"Finn, don't do this," Mr. Shue begged as he reached out to him, but Finn was too lost in his own mind to hear anything the two of them had to say. He backed further away from them, eyes wide.

"My father's dead," he stated numbly before turning on his heel and sprinting towards the door.

* * *

His mother tried really hard to keep him in this reality.

But the more she tried to get him to talk about things, or help with the funeral, or anything that had to do with anything, he shut her out even more.

"Honey, don't do this to yourself," she begged him, running a hand over his hair. He flinched away from her, causing a look of hurt to flash in her eyes.

She stopped trying when she realized that her son was gone, just like her husband.

* * *

His grades dropped drastically.

His mother told him he needed to get his act together or she would kick him out.

He told her that it didn't matter because this place didn't even feel like home anymore, not since his father died.

She slapped him across the face.

"Who are you?" she sobs, searching his face for the son she had raised. He tightened his jaw and looked away.

"I don't know anymore," he responded before running up the stairs and shutting himself in his room.

* * *

Finn lost his virginity to a girl with blonde hair who he had liked for years on his sixteenth birthday.

"I think I might be falling in love with you," she whispered against his overheated shoulder as she trailed her fingers up and down his abdomen. Every syllable confirmed her statement, and that scared the hell out of Finn.

"You shouldn't do that," he muttered, sitting up and running his hands through his hair.

"Finn," she began, placing her hands on his back, causing him to flinch.

"I think you should leave," he whispered before getting out of the bed and slamming the bathroom door.

* * *

He discovered weed when he found out his mother was getting remarried.

Noah Puckerman invited him over to his house and pulled out the dark green and brown roll.

When Finn took his first hit, his lungs contracted and erupted in fire. He coughed and Noah laughed telling him that the first one always sucks, so take another. Finn hesitated, but he still had some pride left so he took another drag.

When he exhaled his eyes slid shut and suddenly his body felt lighter, freer.

He hungrily took another hit, relishing in the effects of the drug. Suddenly his whole world didn't seem so cold. He even was able to come to terms with all the shit in his life. It was like he figured out a new way of coping and it was amazing.

He started doing drugs every day after school because really, he didn't have anything better to do.

* * *

He hits rock bottom when he shows up at his mother's wedding high, going on and on about how Burt isn't his father and never will be. He tells his mom how he doesn't give a damn about anything anymore and she should just get over it. He's not a little kid and she can't run his life, after all.

She slaps him across the face before Burt grabs him from behind and throws him out of the chapel.

"You are not my son!" she screams after him while he stumbles away from her.

He texts Noah and they get drunk and high, which he takes to quite nicely because it makes him forget even more.

When he returns home the next day he finds all his belongings on the front porch with a note from his mom attached.

_Get out of my house, Finn._

He reads the note about five times before it finally hits him that he pushed away the last person who actually gave a shit about him.

* * *

He lives out of his car until Noah finally takes him in.

"I got a job dealing, which means I have a lot of free stuff and a lot of money."

Finn smiles and takes a hit of weed laced with some other kind of drug that makes his head spin.

It's a downward spiral from there.

He drops out of school.

He's officially a Lima Loser.

* * *

He decided he had enough of Lima when he turned 19, so he moved to New York.

He bought this dumpy little hole in the wall where he can do all the drugs he wanted and no one would really care.

Puck moved in a month later when the rent started to get steep.

"Just like old times, huh?" Puck comments as he snorts a line.

Finn just nods and puts out his blunt.

He's just not that into all this anymore.

* * *

He starts to miss his mom.

He starts to feel the pain of his father's death more and more.

He starts to feel guilty about everything he's ever done.

He considers calling his mom and begging for her forgiveness.

He gets really drunk and passes out on the couch instead.

* * *

Sometimes he wonders how his life got so fuck up.

He asks the universe or God or whoever is up there running his life why it had to go this way.

And then he remembers that it all started because of a reaction, his reaction.

He had people who loved him, but he pushed them away.

He sneaks out onto the fire escape of his apartment and looks up at the sky, now scattering snowflakes around the city. He takes a swig of his beer as he contemplates his life, and the importance of it.

He thinks of his dad, and what he would think of him now.

He cries for the first time in years when he realizes that his father would've killed him before it got this far. His father used to tell him he was special, that he had potential to do great things in life.

Now, he had nothing. He was nothing.

Just a boy with no family who fucked everything up.


	2. Rachel

**Chapter Two: Rachel**

* * *

There was something nice about the first snowfall of the year.

It used to be her favorite thing actually.

When she was younger she would sneak out and just sit on her front porch while the small white flakes fell around her. It was quiet and peaceful and she would pull her coat up around her neck and dream about what life would hold for her.

Yes, there was something very nice about the first snowfall of the year.

Just not for Rachel.

* * *

When Rachel was twelve she was ripped from her home, from her mother, and put into the _system._

She stayed in a home for about six months until one day a middle-aged couple came to adopted her.

She smiled brightly and told them all about herself, like she was told, and by the end of the day she had a new family.

They brought her to her new home and gave her a room all to herself and a puppy so that she wouldn't be alone. It was a fairly nice house and she felt like she could get used to it.

Until one night her 'dad' came in to check on her.

He told her to be quiet because _'we don't want to wake mommy do we?'_

He left her naked in her bed after, crying and confused and so so sore.

The next day she lit the curtains on fire and by nightfall she was back at the home in her old room with the other kids her age. When the old woman asked her why she lit the curtains on fire she just shrugged.

"I didn't like it there," she whispered. The old woman nodded and started on some long lecture about how one day a family will come and take her away to a lovely home and she'll never want to leave.

She wasn't so sure about that, but she nodded anyway.

When it was time for bed, she crawled into her little bed and hid under the covers.

* * *

No one ever wanted to adopt her and if they did, Rachel made sure they didn't.

She would put on dirty clothes, play tricks on them, swear at them, anything she could think of to make them leave.

She would not be taken away from the only place she feels safe just to be taken advantage of.

Once they would leave, the old woman would through her into her room, lock the door and tell her she wasn't allowed to come out until she fixed her attitude.

Which Rachel countered with _well you're not my mother so I don't have to listen to you!_

Because really, the old woman wasn't, and no one asked Rachel if she wanted to be here.

She really didn't.

* * *

When she was 16 she took to sneaking out of the house at night with her friend from school.

"Hey I found this cool hang out," Santana told her, "It has free food and alcohol, you down?

Rachel smiled and nodded.

When they got there, she became very found of the small club with flashing purple and blue lights. Her and Santana became regulars.

When she was 17 she found there was more to it when a man forced her into the back room.

"Get on your knees, girl," the man screamed at her, pushing her to her knees. He jammed his hand into her hair while the other began to free himself from his pants. He forced her to take his length and afterwards he left her huddled on the floor of the dirty club.

Santana screamed when she found her. She helped cleaned Rachel up and helped her dress, promising never to take her back here again.

Rachel snuck her into the house that night.

They crawled into her bed and Santana held her as she cried.

She vowed to protect her for the rest of time.

* * *

She entered a downward spiral, losing all ambition to do anything.

She stopped talking to Santana, to anyone really.

Her grades dropped and she became known as the school slut, willing to do anything and everything.

She wore black and started doing drugs.

She ignored the whispers about how she was a troublemaker and how they would blame her parents but she doesn't have any. Most just said she acted out for attention.

What they didn't understand was she didn't do it for attention.

She did it to forget.

* * *

When she was 18 she graduated (barely) and moved to New York.

She lived in a crap one-bedroom apartment that leaked when it rained but she could sort of afford it so it was home.

She went to clubs every night after work and always brought someone home.

That's how she met Shane.

That's how she got mixed up in all this.

He said she would make a ton of money in a short period of time.

He said it was just like hooking up, just for money.

When she lived with her mom, she warned her about things like this.

But she was so high on who knows what that she smiled seductively and shook his hand.

He took her to his house, set her up in a room all her own, and gave her a pipe which she was to smoke every hour.

She doesn't remember much after that.

* * *

He tells her to go outside; that he needs her to make him money and that doesn't happen if she's inside.

She reaches for her coat, but he slaps her hand away and curses at her.

"You need to _sell _yourself, honey," he spits, "how can you do that if you're covered up?"

He grabs her by the back of the head and shoves her outside onto the corner where she walks along side her 'friends' looking for customers.

A car pulls up and she gets in.

"I can make you feel real good, baby," the man says, smoke and alcohol spilling from his breath. She nods and winks at him, playing the part.

The truth is she stopped feeling a while ago because really…what was left for the world to destroy?

* * *

She accepts it when she turns 20.

She finally looks herself in the mirror after two years and says it out loud.

"I am a prostitute."

A few years ago, she would've started crying but she's pushed her emotions so far down that nothing ever escapes anymore. But now she stands in the dirty little bathroom with other girls banging on the door to get in. She takes a deep breath, steels herself and looks at her reflection. She's thin, too thin for her own good and her make up is smudge around her eyes. She nods at her reflection before leaving the bathroom.

She passes Shane's younger brother, Frankie who grabs a hold of her arm and pulls her into his lap.

"You look tired, Rachel," he comments, pressing his lips to her cheek before running his hand through her hair. She rolls her eyes before sliding out of his lap. She fixes her skirt before grabbing the cigarette out of his hand and taking a long drag.

"Yeah well, you don't look so great yourself there, Frank," she says handing the cigarette back to him. He pulls out his pack and gives her a fresh one, lighting it for her. She nods in gratitude before turning away from him and making her way back to the corner.

* * *

Sometimes Rachel doesn't sleep, so she'll sneak up to the roof of the house and look out at the city.

Tonight is the first snowfall of the season, and there's always something nice about the first snowfall.

She takes a long drag of her cigarette and recalls how special this used to be when she was a kid. She then scowls at the drastic turn her life took.

Ever since she was twelve.

She shakes her head, clearing it of those memories.

They're of no use to her now. This is her life and she's accepted it.

She looks out at the city again, catching sight of what seemed to be a wedding.

She wonders what it would be like to fall in love.

She then reminds herself that she is so damaged no one would want to fall in love with her.

Rachel pulls the blanket up to her ears, taking another drag.

She sticks her tongue out and catches a few snowflakes, a small smile tugging at her lips. It tastes like new snow, as weird as that sounds, and it makes her feel a little less anxious about what life has in store for her.

She cringes when she hears the door to the roof fly out, a loud voice calling for her to get her ass inside.

Putting out her cigarette, she sighs taking a final look at the city.

Yes there's always something nice about the first snowfall of the season.

Just not for Rachel.

* * *

**A/N: The rest of the chapters will be in normal format. I made the first two one-shot format because (since they were back stories) I wanted it to be separate stories.**

**The next update is half way written, but it won't be up until at least saturday because tomorrow I leave for a three day trip to Pittsburgh for a wedding. Yay. So I'll try and get it up ASAP!**

**Reviews are what keep me going! Please let me know if you like this story. It's the first one I've done like this, so please let me know!**

**xo**


	3. Happy Birthday, Mr Hudson

**Chapter Three: Happy Birthday, Mr. Hudson**

* * *

_Finn's eyes fly open promptly at six o'clock in the morning._

_He would be bouncing on his parents bed like he does on Christmas but they have an agreement, no earlier than seven thirty. So here he sits, waiting._

_Waiting is not a five-year-old's strong suit though, so before he knows it Finn is sliding out of bed and making his way over to his toy chest. He grabs his Batman and Spiderman action figures and begins his attack on the invisible city he's constructed in his mind._

_He's just about to save Mary Jane when he hears foots steps outside his door._

_As if he was Spiderman himself, he flies to his bed and pulls the covers up to his chin. He squeezes his eyes shut and breaths heavily, as if he's asleep. But he's not. He's only pretending._

_He's very good at pretending he's asleep, especially when his parents are around._

_When Finn opens his eyes again he sees his parents smiling back at him. His mother runs her hands through his hair, placing a kiss upon the crown of his head, while his father runs to the window and throws open his blinds._

"_Wake up, sleepy head!" he calls excitedly at his son, "I can't believe you stayed asleep!"_

_Finn squints dramatically, sitting up in his tiny bed. He clutches his Batman action figure to his chest as his parents reconvene at the foot of his bed. His mother's face is lit up; a full smile stretched across her face and Finn vaguely remembers that she only uses that smile when it's a special, special occasion. She slips her arm around his father, who's grinning happily, obviously waiting for him to get out of bed._

_Suddenly, Finn springs from his bed and envelopes his parents in a giant hug. He kisses both of their cheeks._

"_I fooled you guys!" Finn exclaims excitedly. His eyes go wide as he whispers in their ears, "I've been up since six am!" _

_His parents look at each other, mock-surprise covering their faces as they take in the tiny boy's information._

"_You've been up since when?" his father exclaims, picking his son up and twirling him around in a circle. Finn's laughter reverberates off the walls, mixing in harmony with his mother who is fully enjoying the show. He sets Finn down and his mother suddenly has her arms around his tiny body. She peppers feather light kisses all over his face, which tickles Finn's nose. He pushes her away and starts to laugh again. His mother places her hand over her heart and lets an exaggerated frown settle into her features._

"_Chris, did you see that?" she cries, hitting her husband's arm to get his attention, "Our son is already pushing me away! Finn! Let mommy hold you!"_

_Suddenly Carole Hudson was chasing Finn around the room. Finn ran as fast as his tiny legs would carry him and shouted at his mother that she would never catch him. He wasn't watching his father though._

"_Gotcha!" he shouts, lifting Finn up over his head and tossing him onto the bed. His mother and father sat down next to him, squishing him between them. His father ruffled Finn's hair while his mother tickled his belly, causing Finn's contagious laughter to fill every corner of the room. _

_His mother pulls a box out from behind her, and places it on Finn's lap. She looks over at her husband, sharing a smile that Finn has only ever seen her use with his father. Then, as if they planned it, they both lean in and kiss Finn on the cheek._

"_Happy Birthday, Finn."_

* * *

Finn awoke to the sound of his roommate's screams and the smell of burning bread.

"What the fuck?" he groaned, throwing off the covers and running into the kitchen. Flinging open the door, he discovered Noah frantically throwing a burning pan into the sink. He screams again when the flames roar and grow bigger. In a panic, he started fanning the flames, causing them to grow larger. A string of profanities tumble from his lips as he searches for something to put out the inferno.

A loud chuckle erupts from Finn's mouth, alerting Noah to his presents.

"Shit man!" he exclaims, eyes wide, "You're not supposed to see this! Go back to bed or something!"

Deciding to save his roommate, Finn walked over and turns on the water, dousing the pan. He then threw open the tiny window above the sink to let the smoke out. Once the flames were contained he poured himself a cup of coffee before turning around and leaning up against the counter. He took a sip and cocked an eyebrow at Noah who was staring at him.

"Well?" Finn prompted, motioning at the sink. Noah ran his hand over his freshly shaven head and took a deep breath.

"Okay well," he began. Finn took another sips of his coffee as he listened to the explanation, suddenly feeling very parental. He brushed it off as Noah continued, "don't get all sentimental on me or anything but I wanted to make you breakfast."

Finn's eyes widened as the words came out in a mumbled rush, "You _what_?" he laughed.

Noah rolled his eyes, "Well you know, you're always doing all this shit for me and saving my ass so….I thought I'd make you breakfast. I mean…it is your birthday and all."

Finn rolled his eyes and gulped his coffee. He didn't want to think about his birthday. He was another year older, so what? There didn't need to be a whole day dedicated to it. It was just another day in his opinion. What he doesn't admit to himself (or anyone for that matter) is that his birthday brings up memories of his parents and that's something he never wants to think about.

"You don't have to do anything, Noah. I'm fine," he assures his distressed friend, clamping him on the shoulder. Noah shakes his head, a cocky smirk forming on his face. He wiggles his eyebrows at Finn, causing him to groan.

"Noah, what have you done?" he asks warily as his friend starts to talk a mile a minute about all the plans he made for tonight.

"Dude it'll be _fun_! Don't you trust the Puck-a-saurous?"

Finn throws his friend a tired look before downing the rest of his coffee. He shakes his head, a small smile forming on his lips as he puts his arm around Noah.

"How many times do I have to tell you, man?" he asks, ducking his head so that he's looking at Noah, "Puck is _never _going to catch on. Just stick with Noah, ok?"

Noah shakes his head as he watches Finn walk back to his room.

"Just you wait, Finn Hudson!" he yells after him, "It's going to catch on and you'll eat those words!"

Finn just laughs calling over his shoulder that he'll never call him Puck, earning him a paper towel roll to the back of the head.

* * *

Rachel fell back against the bed, her head smashing comfortably into the pillow, as Frankie finished her off with his mouth. She shut her eyes allowing the feeling to over take her. She felt the familiar tension coiling in her stomach; pulling and contracting her so tight that it felt like it could burst at any moment.

"C'mon, baby," Frankie whispered against her, "Let go, scream for me."

The vibration from his lips against her clit sent her over the edge and she screamed his name. He heard him moan as his own release came, coating her underside and genitals in his white juices. She screamed his name a little louder for dramatic effect, like she did with every customer.

"You're so hot, Rachel," he murmured as he worked his way back up her body. He left sloppy kisses in between the valleys of her breasts before kissing her full on the lips. He parted hers with his tongue, the taste of smoke, alcohol, and _her _spilling onto her taste buds.

It took all she had to not vomit.

When he had his way with her he kissed her forehead and held up a fresh pipe for her to smoke. She stared at it hungrily; a need so strong taking over she could be on fire and would've noticed. She wasn't scheduled to receive her new pipe for another three days. He took out his lighter, put the pipe to her lips, and lit it. She closed her eyes and took a long drag, relishing in the effects she'd become so accustomed to. Her body becomes feather light. The drug lifts her stress and worry away, making her lighter than air, and she files that feeling away in the back of her mind. She places it beside the memory of her mother's smile, somewhere deep down in her subconscious, for her to thumb through when things become too hard.

Another drag, another burst of adrenaline, more peace.

"You're my favorite, baby," Frankie whispers against her ear before slipping out of bed and leaving her alone.

She allows her eyes slip closed, and lets the pipe take her far, far away.

* * *

Finn finds himself in the back of a dirty bar, a red head pushed between him and a brick wall. His head swims and she lifts her hand to his mouth. He licks the salt off her pale skin, enjoying the way it pops and sizzles against his tongue. He vaguely feels the fourth shot being lifted to his mouth by her, but he leans his head back and swallows. She holds the lime up and he bits into it quickly, washing away the burn of the horribly cheap tequila. The lime bursts against his taste buds and he barely has time to register that he's _extremely _drunk before the redhead crushes her lips against his again.

He fucks her against the wall, leaving scratches against her exposed skin from the rough brick. If he was sober he'd probably feel bad, but right now he's drunk and he doesn't care. He runs towards the relief that is building in his stomach, grasping at it with all he has. He watches stars explode behind his eyelids when he reaches it and he tucks the feeling away, that whole warm feeling, for another time. He drops her from his grip when they're finished. Adjusting himself, he turns to leave, stopped only by the rough slurring sound of the girl's voice,

"So that's it? N'even gonna walk me backta the bar?"

He doesn't turn when he says, "Not my style." He hears her huff before he leaves her to her business and re-entering the bar. She watches him, eyes wide, as she gathers her clothes and dresses.

A humorless smile crosses his face as his muddled mind registers that she somehow thought she was getting a gentleman. He pushes down the sorrow and guilt he feels when he realizes that he doesn't even know what it means to be a gentleman. But that's all forgotten when Noah comes up to his with a beer and another girl who hands him a blunt.

Noah drives him to this little strip of road after where he knows a guy who can hook them up with some _real _ladies who know how to treat a man. Finn was surprised when Noah told him he had refrained from drinking in order to be able to take him here. _Consider it a birthday present_ he had grumbled.

"It'll be great, bro!" he says before clamping Finn on the back. Finn shrugs. He was never a fan of prostitutes. "C'mon, Finn, we gotta get you out of this _funk._"

He just laughs at the intense look on Noah's face as he pulls up along side a couple of girls. Finn's head starts to spin again, tequila and pot and God knows what else slushing around in his skull. Adrenalin shoots through him as he sees the half naked girls walking around in the bitter cold. A smile breaks across his face as he begins to mentally pick which one he wants. A man with sandy blonde hair and a grey suit jacket comes over and Noah rolls down the window. They shake hands across Finn and he has to hold his breath because man this guy smells bad.

"Puck, my man, what can I do you for?" The man greets, a fake smile fastening down on a cigar. Puck hits Finn in the chest and tells the guy that it's his birthday and he needs a few nice ladies to you know 'warm the bed.' Finn nods coolly, not looking at the man.

Finn doesn't miss the smug look that Noah gives him when Shane calls him Puck.

"You gonna hook us up, Shane?" he asks, surveying the girls walking up and down the street corner. Shane starts in on a whole lecture about how for Puck anything was possible and since it was Finn's birthday he could pick any girl he wanted free of charge.

But he begins to tune Shane out when his unfocused eyes land on a small petite girl with long brown hair and smudged black make-up. She takes a slow drag from her cigarette before stomping it out. He can't help but wish he were that cigarette, slowly being taken in between her full lips, causing her pleasure that only an addiction can do. He watches as she walks with a slow, sultry swing in her hips, obviously a trait she picked up beckoned the drivers to stop by and talk to her. She was thin, too thin. She looked tired and damaged, lost but somehow not lost, and suddenly Finn's head hurt from the effort he was putting into the thought of this girl. His heart tugged and it hurt for her, something that he hasn't allowed in a while, but he couldn't stop it. He looked at this girl, and something inside him churned, made him want to gather her up in his arms and make her better.

She approached another car, speaking to a man that had gotten out of his car. He was whispering in her ear and, although she laughs and flirts at all the right times, her face says she's not interested. She kisses the man on the cheek before walking must've been _obviously _staring because when she looks towards him, she gives him a wink before turning and speaking to another girl.

"Who's that?" he asks, the words tumbling from his lips before he can stop them. Shane looks in the girl's direction and smiles.

"That? Oh well that'd be our own little gold star, Rachel Berry," he explained, excitement lighting up his eyes as if he was a car sales man, "She's really great, the best if I do say so myself, and you know, I can."

The man winked and Finn was overcome with the urge to hit him. Noah laughed, commenting on how Shane has it made, before turning to Finn.

"I don't know, man," Noah mused leaning over his friend to get a look at Rachel, "She doesn't seem so special. In fact, her nose is kind of big. Why don't you go for someone like that?"

Noah extended his hand out to a blonde girl leaning up against a brick wall. Shane informed him that her name was Quinn Fabray and she wasn't for sale right now because some 'douche bag' got her knocked up.

"No, but Rachel is one of a kind. She's the best we have; in fact she's in the class A team! They're our elite girls! I guarantee you-"

"I'll take her," Finn interrupted, never taking his eyes off of her. She looked cold and tired and so so small. Shane nodded, calling for her and two others for Noah. Rachel walked over, a seductive smile settling into her features. The swing in her hips made Finn's head swim more and more as he watched them sway as if on a pendulum. Shane opened the door and smacked her ass as she climbed into Finn's lap. The man leaned down and explained to Rachel that it was his birthday and she was to service only him. The other two girls were for Puck's use and Rachel was for Finn. End of story. She nodded, blowing a kiss in Shane's direction, before shutting the door and turning to Finn.

"Hello, baby," she whispered into his ear, kissing right below his earlobe. A small moan rippled from the back of his throat before he could contain it, "I hear it's your birthday, so I'm going to make this _extra _nice for you."

He let his eyes slip closed and focuses on losing himself in the sound of her voice. There is a cadence to it, a rhythm to the way she speaks, the way she moves. He attaches himself to it and allows the steady tempo to carry him home. She peppers his neck with kisses, a series of nips and sucks that send his body into overload and for the first time in years he has to think of the mailman in order to keep his cool.

He throws her on his bed when they get home, taking in the way she spreads herself before him. She begins to strip before him and it takes all he has not to rip her close off. She slaps his hand away when he tries, telling him he'll ruin the surprise if he does it himself. He nods and watches, slowly rubbing his own erection, tequila still seeping into every thought he has. When she's in nothing but her bra and panties, he can't take it anymore and pushes her down, hovering over her. He captures her lips in his as she rips his clothes from his body. When he moves to her neck, sucking and licking and moaning, she presses her lips against his earlobe,

"What do you want, baby?" the whisper washes over Finn and he is reduced to nothing but a hormone crazy boy. He pants as he drags his hand down her stomach and cups her warmth causing her to buck into him.

"_You," _he growls against her skin, and when he pushes himself into her, he doesn't think he's ever felt anyone so amazing. She rolls her hips in a way that makes him see the whole universe instead of his stars and when he comes, he feels the earth shatter around him, leaving only the high of something that is better than any drug. She falls over the edge with him, screaming his name and bucking her hips once more.

She lets him rest for a few minutes before taking his length in her mouth and putting him through the whole process again and again and again.

She lives up to her A team title.

Finally, around four am, when they are both exhausted and sore and unable to think coherently, Finn falls asleep with his arm around her waist. A feeling in his heart that makes his stomach flip and flop and he doesn't know why but he sort of _likes _it. But he pushes that feeling aside, files it along side his longing for his mom and his love for football, and curls his fingers around her waist.

"You're _awesome, _Rachel," he mummers against her skin, allowing the tequila and drugs that are still swimming around him his system to talk for him. She smiles at him, a silent thank you. She brushes the hair out of his face before her eyes go dark with urgency.

"Tell me something about yourself," she whispers, looking up at him with big eyes, "anything, favorite color, favorite food, anything that's personally important to you."

Finn's eyebrows knit together, silently asking why he had to do this but the urgency on her face made him forget any type of doubt he had so he let the answer tumble from his lips like a waterfall of emotions.

"My favorite color is blue."

She lets out a sigh of relief as nods, "That's a really nice color," she comments, leaving him wondering still why she needs this information to begin with. But his head starts to pound and his eyes grow heavy so he decides he'll surrender to the exhaustion and think about it in the morning.

When he wakes up, he's alone. He sits up, his head screaming in protest. He sees a small piece of paper on his nightstand, small little squiggles in perfect lines filling the contents of it. He reaches for it with a moan, squinting, a tiny smile breaking across his face when he finally made out the words.

"_Happy Birthday, Mr. Hudson. I hope to see you again sometime. xo"_


End file.
